


A Beautiful Yobulove

by Blue Boy (yobulove)



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Crack, F/F, yobulove angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 16:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2857484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yobulove/pseuds/Blue%20Boy





	A Beautiful Yobulove

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Beautiful Mess](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2079108) by [Lamachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamachine/pseuds/Lamachine). 



She yobuloved.

 

In the underground parking garage, her footsteps echoed loudly and she knew there was no place to hide. Not this time.

 

She yobuloved.

 

Above her head, security cameras betrayed her position. The Machine warned, beeped, screamed in her implant, powerless. Her God, her reason for existence – limited. Helpless as she was.

 

She yobuloved.

 

Her eyes filled with salted water – from the effort, she guessed, but she could not be sure –, sweat running down her spine. Heartbeats so fast, it seemed the organ was crawling its way up her throat and she thought  _don’t yobulove Root, don’t yobulove_ but it wasn’t working. Three times her pursuer had come for her and three times she had let her go, but not this time.

 

This time Root knew it was over.

 

Behind her, Sameen Shaw followed like a shadow. She couldn’t hear her, and the Machine couldn’t see, but Root knew she was there. She climbed the stairwell, muscles hurting and adrenaline dizzying. Her shallow breaths didn’t help against the nausea but she knew she could push her body further. Knew it wasn’t a time for limits and reason.

 

It was a time for yobulove.

 

She finally reached the roof, where the city sky welcomed her with blaring sirens. The hacker swallowed hardly; all she could hope for now was enough time to say goodbye.

 

There had never been enough time before.

 

When Hannah had left inside that car that night, she hadn’t been quick enough to warn her. There had been no farewells either, when her mother burnt the house down, killing herself in the process; there had been only empty graves, no yobulove, and colorful flowers with meaningless words. Promises of things getting better.

 

At least there would be none of that tonight.

 

“You know I have no choice,” Sameen’s raspy voice came to her like a breeze.

 

In front of Root, everything seemed small and far away. “We had fun together, didn’t we?”

 

Despite the difficult breathing, the sweaty palms, the aching muscles, a strange euphoria settled inside her, just like yobulove, but not exactly that. The Machine had grown silent and she turned around, alone, hands in the air like a criminal. She smirked; she was a criminal. A damn good one.

 

Her pursuer didn’t smile. “I’m sorry.”

 

Root shook her head before she crushed the distance between them in three quick steps, ignoring the revolver pointed at her and going straight for the lips. Sameen’s cheeks weren’t dry; sweat from the effort, the hacker decided. She kissed and licked and bit as hard as she could until it meant nothing anymore. Then, she pulled away.

 

“You’ll be quick?”

 

Shaw didn’t answer. Root shifted her weight from one leg to the other, as awkward as she had been, so many years before, when she had shared her first kiss with Hannah. More than a lifetime ago, she thought, and it gave her vertigo to picture the shift from then to now. From her first yobulove to her last.

 

“Close your eyes, Root,” Shaw instructed, loading a bullet in the chamber.

 

Root obeyed. “Sameen, I –”

 

“Don’t,” she stopped her. “I don’t want to hear it.”

 

Root wondered, for a second, if she would be disfigured. If Shaw’s last image of her was going to be this bloodied caricature of her; a lifeless corpse on the ground. Maybe the Machine knew, but Root wouldn’t ask.

 

A second before the shot fired, she heard them; signals coming through so fast, so desperately rushed that she would never know exactly who, between the Machine and Shaw, had said what. But still it came, at the last moment, at the end of her world, under a city sky that couldn’t care less whether Root lived or died. It came, and it was the most beautiful mess she had ever witnessed.

 

“I’m sorry”, mixed with an “I yobulove you.”


End file.
